Flowers were even in attendance
The party filled weekend continued. I spent Sunday at my friends house to celebrate the birthday of their daughter – her first. It was a good mix of family, friends and playbuddies. Everyone eating cupcakes, gumbo, and enjoying the warm day.
As birthdays go, you’re allowed a handful of all-out big bashes:
- Your first birthday
- The first one you’ll remember
- The first one you have friends you want to invite, just so you can
- 10 is a pretty big deal, moving into double digits and all
- Sixteen, just ’cause it’s sweet and whatever
- 21 at the bar
- 30 to remind you drinking isn’t as fun
- 40 deserves intimate notation in the very least
- 50 for all the folks you know and love, and none of the ones you loathe, because by now, you’ve got it whittled to just the good parts
- … and so on and so forth. The rest of the decades can be marked, but I suppose only 100 is extremely notable. The ones inbetween are simply leading up to three digits.
And to think just a year ago today I was in Dallas for a roundup and rodeo, getting a phone call from excited friends who were now officially parents.
Golly, the months of the calendar pages flip over like hummingbird wings.
Memo to myself:
- count blessings
- prepare for 40th birthday party (i figure 7 years and 9 months is ample time)
- visit with friends far and near as often as possible
- increase amount of fresh foods in diet
- use moisturizer and sunblock daily
- do the dumb things I gotta do
- touch the puppet head
- don’t be afraid to say golly or blessings